


Good Morning

by wanheda_two_heda



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Basically everything that is early morning Bellarke, F/M, Fluff, Morning Cuddles, Morning Kisses, Morning Sex, Porn with Feelings, There's a hint of plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-06
Updated: 2017-05-06
Packaged: 2018-10-28 13:21:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10832109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanheda_two_heda/pseuds/wanheda_two_heda
Summary: With early morning light streaming through the window and Bellamy's arms wrapped around her when she wakes up, Clarke doesn't ever want to be anywhere else in the world. It truly is a good morning.Basically super fluffy and tooth-rottingly sweet Bellarke mornings.





	Good Morning

**Author's Note:**

> Someone on Tumblr (I'm so sorry that I can't remember who! My brain is mush!) asked me for sleepy Bellarke, and I had to post this!
> 
> There is some plot to this, but this is a snippet from my novel that I tweaked to fit the prompt and just had to use because it's totally Bellarke, so I won't be posting any follow-up or prequel. You'll just have to hang around until I have publishing info!
> 
> **I'M COLLECTING LETTERS & FAN ART FOR BOB & ELIZA TO GIVE TO BOB AT FAN EXPO. SUBMISSION DEADLINE IS AUGUST 16, 2017. SUBMISSION GUIDELINES CAN BE FOUND [HERE](http://youleftme-clarke.tumblr.com/bobbook).**

When Clarke wakes up, she smiles at the feeling of strong arms wrapping around her waist and pulling her against a firm chest that she seems to fit so perfectly against. She sighs contentedly, and Bellamy nuzzles against her shoulder, breathing in the scent of her and pressing a soft kiss to the side of her neck.

"Good morning," he mumbles sleepily, and if she could only ever hear one sound again for the rest of her life, it would be the sound of his voice, hoarse from sleep and disuse, quiet enough so that she’s knows he’s speaking only to her.

"Morning," she answers with a smile, running her foot up the inside of his calf.

It's been too long since she felt this happy, this comfortable.

"Sleep well?" he asks, and she can feel his smile on her skin, one that matches hers, as he presses teasing, barely-there kisses to her shoulder.

She mumbles an assent, unable to find her voice as he brushes her hair aside and his mouth finds that spot just below her ear that has her arching back into him, desperate for more. He groans against her skin, his teeth nipping at her, and his arm tightening around her waist as she grinds against his obvious arousal.

“Fuck, Clarke,” he mumbles, so she rubs back on him again for good measure.

One of his hands darts under her tank top and starts exploring the expanse of bare skin he finds there, while the others easily slips beneath the waist band of the black scrap of lace she wears, his finger dancing around where she wants him, where she needs him, but he never quite touches the point that will undo her. His mouth becomes hungrier against her neck as his fingers find one of her nipples. She turns her head, searching for his lips, and he meets her in a slow, easy kiss, his tongue swiping along the seam of her mouth, begging for entrance.

She lets him in, and she bites his lip, taking it into her mouth when his thumb and index tweak the nipple he’d been playing with. The fingers of his other hand flex against her hip, urging her to turn around. She does, and lying on her side, chest to chest with him, he can deepen the kiss. His hand slides down her body, over the curve of her ass, where he can’t help but squeeze, pushing her harder against his growing erection. He continues exploring down the length of her, playing with the soft fabric of her tiny sleep shorts, and he hides a chuckle against her mouth, one she swallows as she cards her hands through his hair. They’re both so happy, but too stubborn to say the words out loud. When his fingers can wrap around the back of her thigh, he hikes her leg over his hip, leaving not a whisper of space between them, and they lie there, his hand brushing up and down along the divots of her spine, trading slow, messy kisses and stale morning breath, bathed in sunlight while Seattle comes to life just outside of his apartment window.

When they eventually break apart, both lying on their sides, heads pillowed on their arms, Bellamy looks at Clarke with a smile on his face that could rival the sun shining outside. His hand radiates heat where it rests against the skin of her hip. There is not a thing in the world that Clarke wouldn't trade to wake up every morning in his arms, to feel like she finally belongs.

"So," she starts, her fingers tracing patterns up and down his arm. She presses a light kiss to his chest before continuing. "Last night was -"

"Incredible," he cuts in, kissing her forehead.

She ducks her head in a shy laugh, and looks up at him through her eyelashes. His hand reaches up to brush her hair out of her face, and she leans into his touch, taking her lower lip between her teeth. He pulls her lip out with a gentle brush of his thumb.

"What's wrong?" he asks, fingers carding through her hair.

"What if Octavia finds out?" she asks, and her heartbeat races in her chest, scared for the first time since falling into bed with him, because there is no way that his sister won’t find out.

Octavia is Clarke’s closest friend, and even if Clarke and Bellamy had been dancing around this inevitability for so long, Clarke doesn’t know how Octavia would take to finding out that her best friend is sleeping with her brother. She doesn’t want to lose the best friend she’s ever had, but now that she knows what it’s like to be with Bellamy, she doesn’t know if she can give that up either.

"I know that I should care about that, but please don’t make me think about my little sister right now. Not when I’m in bed with a gorgeous woman, one that I’ve wanted for months now. We can handle Octavia however you want to handle it. We can wait or see where this goes and tell her later, or we can tell her now and get it out of the way. It’s up to you."

“Do you have any doubts about where this is going to go?” she asks, not meeting his eyes.

“No, I just don’t want to pressure you into anything that you’re not ready for. Octavia is my sister, but as far as I’m concerned, you’re my girl. We’ll figure it out, but I’m not losing either one of you.”

She surges forward and captures his mouth in a hungry kiss, because his answer doesn’t solve their problem, but Bellamy just told her that he’s been feeling the same way about her as she’s been about him, and it’s really all she can focus on. His strong arms wrap around her and pull her on top of his chest, their legs tangling together.

"Thank you," she says, perching herself up on her elbows to look down at him, her hair falling around them in waves. "For standing up for me last night, I mean." She reaches up to run a finger just above the cut she’d bandaged over his eyebrow the night before.

He gives her a smile, and she leans down to kiss it right off his face. His hands dart under her shirt, hiking it up towards her shoulders. She breaks away from him, pulling back.

"Give me a minute?" she asks as he mouths at her neck. "I just need to use the washroom quick and freshen up."

He loosens his grip on her, and she reluctantly slides out from under the sheets, giving him one last quick kiss. He gives her a self-satisfied smirk, his arms crossed behind his head, watching as she pads from the room in nothing but black lace panties and a white tank top. Clarke ducks into the bathroom and makes quick work of brushing her teeth and cleaning away the previous night’s makeup. She sprays a cloud of perfume into the air, passing through it just before walking back to the bedroom and climbing onto the bed, crawling over to him and straddling his thighs.

"Hi," she says, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Welcome back," he replies, his hands sliding up her legs and finding their favorite place on her hips. "I missed you."

She giggles. He flips them over easily, crowding over her, and his weight on top of her is a comfortable reassurance of his presence, much needed after last night’s altercation. She runs her fingers through his hair again and reaches up to kiss the bruise forming on his cheekbone. He kisses along her jaw, down the column of her throat, and her exploring hands fist into his dark curls, her mouth falling open, when he latches his mouth onto her pulse point, sucking a bruise onto the delicate skin of her neck to mark her as his. And if every kiss he pressed to her body could leave a mark, she’d be the happiest girl on Earth, knowing that everyone in sight could see that she finally belongs to Bellamy Blake. He laves over the sensitive spot with his tongue, and her moan has him grinding his hips down against where she needs him most.

His hands slide from her hips to her shoulders, ridding her of her camisole and he presses a line of kisses along her sternum, down the valley of her breasts, as his hands come up to squeeze the heavy globes of creamy flesh. His fingers slide underneath the elastic waistband of her panties and slowly explore the folds of skin, so drenched with arousal. He has her squirming beneath him in seconds, begging and pleading for his mouth. The pleasure he makes her feel has her closing her eyes as she comes undone against the soft skin of his lips and the rough stubble of his jaw. His fingers pumping in and out of her grow slow and soothing as he brings her down from her high.

She exhales his name as he falls into the cradle of her hips, moving against her lazily as he kisses every exposed inch of skin. She can taste herself when she licks into his mouth, and his hands are gentle as he attempts to commit every inch of her to memory through touch alone as he moves in and out of her steadily, seeking that explosion of pleasure he’d helped her find so many times since she’d agreed to come back home with him last night.

Bellamy’s hoarse, early morning voice might be the one thing that she wants to hear every day for all of eternity, but if she only ever gets to repeat one moment, it would be this one, where the sound of his strangled gasps fill the room as he chases his own release, slow and lazy thrust after slow and lazy thrust, covering her sweaty and sated body with his own. She could be happy forever.

**Author's Note:**

> **I'M COLLECTING LETTERS & FAN ART FOR BOB & ELIZA TO GIVE TO BOB AT FAN EXPO. SUBMISSION DEADLINE IS AUGUST 16, 2017. SUBMISSION GUIDELINES CAN BE FOUND [HERE](http://youleftme-clarke.tumblr.com/bobbook).**
> 
> I do **actual** writing in my spare time! Come find me at [@pascale_writes](https://twitter.com/pascale_writes) or let's hang out on [Tumblr](http://youleftme-clarke.tumblr.com/)


End file.
